Trouble and a Box of Chocolates
by TRUMAN'S SHELL
Summary: Dean and Sam decide to make their Dad's Christmas present and things don't go as planned. Part of LJ's 12 days of Christmas. Warning: Spanking


Title: Trouble and a Box of Chocolates

Author: Truman's Shell

Beta: Spanked By Spike (Thanks for the idea too!)

Characters/Pairings: John, Dean (13) Sammy (9)

Scenario: John spanks Dean

Implement: Hand

Summary: Dean and Sam decide to make their Dad's Christmas present and things don't go as planned.

"We have to get Dad something for Christmas," nine year old Sammy said.

"I know," Dean said looking at the two dollars and fifty cents in his hand. What could he get the greatest guy in the world with this? His dad was a superhero and deserves a present that he would love.

The two boys walked up and down the aisles of the store looking at everything. Dean contemplated stealing something, but knew his Dad would kick his ass and would be disappointed with the present. So that really wasn't the type of gift he wanted to give the man.

"I guess we'll get him this box of chocolates," Dean grumbled as he picked it up.

"That's boring Dean. Dad, can get chocolate whenever he wants too."

Dean knew that what his brother had said was true, so he thought harder and had a brilliant upon brilliant idea.

"True, but we can turn the chocolates into bullets for Dad. He showed me how to make silver bullets last week, so making chocolate bullets shouldn't be that hard."

"Yeah, Dad likes guns and that way I can help too!" Sam said excitedly.

"Well let's go. He is supposed to be home late tonight and I want to have this done first."

The second they got home Dean ran into his father's room and grabbed the stuff to make silver bullets. The mold had remnants of silver in them, so he figured Sammy could clean them while he melted the chocolate.

"Sammy, you have to clean this up. We don't want Dad eating silver with his chocolate," Dean said smiling and handing his little brother the molds.

Now he just had to figure out how to melt the chocolate without making a mess. He grabbed the biggest pot possible and dumped them in. He started stirring and hated that they weren't melting very fast, but knew they would melt sooner or later.

"How are the molds coming?" Dean asked.

"Almost done," Sam said smiling brightly. "Dad's gonna love this!"

Dean just smiled because he knew his brother was right.

"Are the chocolates melted yet?"

"Just about, come on over and we'll start ladling them in."

Getting the chocolate in the molds was a lot harder than Dean thought it would be. He was making an absolute mess, but he would fix it as soon as the chocolate was hard and he popped them out.

"How do we get them to harden?"

"Dad, usually just lets it cool, but I want to get it done fast. Let's put it in the freezer."

Dean looked at the bottom of the pot and realized there was still chocolate in the bottom of the pan.

"Hey Sammy."

"Yeah."

"Wanna do shots of chocolate?"

"Like Dad and his shots of whisky?"

"Yep. I bet I can do more than you can."

"No way. I love chocolate."

"Whoever can drink the most doesn't have to clean up."

"Good."

Dean grabbed a chair and took down two shot glasses before using the ladle to pour the shots.

"Bottoms up!" Dean said.

Both came up coughing. Dean didn't realize how thick the chocolate actually was, but he wasn't quitting because he sure as hell didn't want to clean up the kitchen. So it was time to pour the second shot.

"Ready?"

"Can I have a glass of water?" Sam asked.

"Only if you give," Dean said hoping that his brother would as he really didn't want to do another shot.

"No, I'm going to beat you."

By the fourth shot Dean's head was spinning and so was his stomach. He knew that Sammy was having trouble and had barely gotten the shot down, he only had to do a couple more and he would win.

"Ready," Dean asked handing his brother another shot.

"I don't know," Sam replied.

Dean threw him a towel and said,

"Get cleaning."

"No," Sam said firmly grabbing the shot and downing it.

Dean shook his head and did the same. This time Sammy couldn't take it and made a beeline for the bathroom the second the shot was down his throat. Dean smiled because he won, but at the same time felt completely guilty hearing his little brother puking his guts out. He still wasn't going to clean the kitchen, but he did grab a cup of water and walk it to the bathroom.

"You ok Sammy?" Dean asked handing his brother the glass of water.

"No, I'm sick!"

"Well soon as you're finished the kitchen is waiting."

"Dean, I'm sick."

"You'll live."

"You're such a jerk," Sam pouted before taking a sip of water.

"Just hurry up because Dad will be home in a couple of hours and I don't want him to know about his present or that we just ate like five candy bars," Dean said smiling.

Sam came out of the bathroom ten minutes later and glared at his brother who was plopped on the couch watching some horror movie. It wasn't fair that his brother had an iron stomach and now he had to clean the messy kitchen on his own. But a bet was a bet.

Five hours later Dean moved a sleeping Sammy off his lap and went to the freezer. It looked like the bullets were solid, so he started to pop them out one by one. He couldn't believe how hard it was to get the chocolate bullets out. Finally he grabbed a knife and started to pry them out. When the fifth chocolate bullet popped out, Dean saw the slight crack in the rubber mold. Shit, his Dad was going to kill him. Dean remembered the lesson on making bullets and the importance of the molds being perfect. What was he going to do?

Sam walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes.

"Those look gross."

"No shit Sherlock."

"I thought you said it would work."

"Well it kinda worked and your bitching isn't going to change anything," Dean yelled out of frustration.

"I can't believe you ruined Dad's present!"

"I didn't mean to Sammy. The molds aren't for chocolate."

"And you didn't know that before we started?"

"Obviously not or I wouldn't have done it."

"What are we going to do now?"

"I don't know Sammy."

"Well I'm not giving Dad that shit for Christmas."

Dean was pissed and threw the mold at Sammy's head. Sam ducked and it hit the wall breaking the mold into three pieces.

"You broke Dad's mold! He's gonna spank you so hard," Sam said with huge eyes.

"Us. You helped me with this," Dean said angrily.

"But I don't want a spanking. It was your idea," Sam said with tears falling.

"I know. I know," Dean said looking down. He knew at that second he was going to take the heat on this one and he also knew that his ass was going to pay dearly. First, he wasn't allowed near the arsenal and second, he wasn't allowed to play with his Dad's stuff. How did things get so bad so quick? All he wanted to do was give his Dad a cool Christmas present and now he was going to lose the ability to sit for at least a week, let alone how long he was going to be grounded for. Stupid box of chocolate. "Ok, I'll tell Dad you weren't involved."

"Thanks Dean," Sam said giving his older brother a hug.

"Don't make a big thing out of it."

Sam just smiled and started picking up the pieces of chocolate that were on the ground.

"A few bullets survived," Sam said smiling.

"Maybe it'll butter him up."

"Couldn't hurt."

Dean was stressed for the rest of the night. He kept wondering if he should call his Dad and fess up, but he really didn't want to listen to two lectures. The one before the spanking was going to be more than enough. He also debated about hiding this from his Dad, but knew it would make things ten times worse, plus if his Dad really needed silver bullets and didn't have a mold it could be dangerous. So his only option was to sit and wait for his impending doom.

Sam wasn't helping matters. The kid was totally freaking out, thinking that he might get a spanking, but Dean was pretty sure that Sam was in the clear. He might get a swat or two, but hopefully his Dad would just give the kid corner time and a long lecture about keeping his paws off his stuff.

At nine, his Dad still wasn't home and it was past Sam's bedtime.

"You better go to bed Sammy."

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait with you?"

"No, Dad will be pissed if you're not in bed when he gets home. I'm going to have to go too in thirty minutes."

"You're not going to wait?"

"I'm not pissing the man off by skipping bedtime too," Dean said giving his brother a smile.

Sam smiled and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and get ready for bed. Dean sat there for the half hour and determined that his Dad wasn't going to be home before bed. With that in mind he walked into the kitchen and picked up the stuff. He didn't want his Dad to see the broken mold without an explanation.

John pulled up to the house a little after eleven. He hoped to be there before the boys went to bed, but the hunt had taken longer than he thought it would. He walked into the room and saw that Dean was awake.

"Hey kiddo," John said sitting on his bed and began rubbing his eldest back.

Dean sat up and looked mournfully at his father.

"You ok?"

"No, I um broke something important."

"What?" John asked, thinking it was a neighbor's window or lamp.

"The silver bullet mold."

"You were making silver bullets," John asked angrily.

"No sir. I was making chocolate bullets."

"Let's go to the living room, I don't want to wake up your brother."

"Too late," Sammy mumble. "Plus I was there too."

"You didn't do anything Sammy," Dean argued.

"It was my idea too," When Sam went to bed he decided that he wasn't going to let Dean take the blame on this one.

John sighed and said,

"Go sit on the couch and let's straighten things out so we can get some sleep."

Dean grabbed the pieces of the mold and the boys followed their father out into the living room and sat on the couch.

"Why don't you start from the beginning," John said.

"We wanted to get you something for Christmas, but I only had a couple of bucks," Dean began.

"So we decided to get you a box of chocolates."

"We thought that would be a boring gift and I remembered you making silver bullets a couple of weeks ago. I decided I would melt the chocolate down and put them in the mold like you did with the silver. To make things go quicker, once the chocolate was in the molds I put it in the freezer. I think I left it in too long because the mold started cracking. Sammy came out and started bitching…ow," Dean stopped and rubbed the swat he just got for swearing before continuing, "I got mad at him because I knew I was already in trouble for cracking the mold so I threw it at him and broke."

Dean put the pieces of the rubber mold on the table. John sighed. It wasn't the worse thing in the world, but he needed that mold and his son knew better than to touch his stuff, especially the arsenal.

"Sammy."

"Yes sir."

"What did you do wrong?"

"Watched Dean make chocolate bullets?" Sam asked.

"Did you remind your brother that he shouldn't play with the arsenal or that he shouldn't touch my stuff?"

"No sir, because it's Christmas and I thought it would be a nice present."

John sighed and said,

"I know you were trying to be thoughtful, but you still need to follow the rules."

"Yes sir. Are you gonna spank me?"

"Do you deserve a spanking?"

"I don't know. I didn't touch your stuff."

"You're right and because of that you aren't getting a spanking tonight, instead you are grounded for one week so that you'll remember not to touch my belonging and so you'll help your brother remember," John said. "Come here."

Sam walked over and John pulled the little boy into a hug.

"Go get some sleep. Dean and I have a lot to discuss."

"Yes sir."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he watched his brother walk down the hall.

"Thanks for not spanking him Dad. It was my idea."

"Can you tell me what you did wrong?" John asked.

"I went in your room, took something of yours, and broke it. Plus I threw something at Sammy's head."

"Dean, my job is dangerous and I need every item to make sure I do it right. I'm proud of you for telling me the truth right away, but you know better than to touch my stuff."

"Yes sir."

"Let's get this over with."

Dean walked over and allowed his father to pull him across his knee. He wasn't surprised when his Dad pulled down his pajama bottoms along with his boxers. As always he held his breath waiting for his father's hard hand to fall, he didn't have to wait long for the explosion of pain that traveled across his butt. After five swats he was wiggling trying to dodge the swats, but his father always was in control and never missed his target. Dean never knew how he was going to get through a spanking, but knew he had little choice in the matter. He also knew no matter how much he wanted it over his father wouldn't stop until he was sure Dean wouldn't touch his things again. Much to his dismay tears were starting to fall and he knew he was going to be crying any second. Three more swats and the crying began, he wasn't sobbing yet, but he knew he would. He also didn't know if he should be happy that his father was tipping him forward to attack his sit spots or not. On the bright side the spanking was almost over, but it also meant that he was going to lose his ability to sit with this turn of events. His only hope now was that his thighs would be spared, but they weren't, his father landed three swats on each before pulling him into a hug.

"I'm…sorry…Dad," Dean sobbed into John's strong chest.

"It's ok, kiddo."

Dean cried for a few more minutes before he pushed himself out of his Dad's arms. The second that he was standing his Dad popped one of the five chocolate bullets into his mouth.

"Pretty good chocolate."

"You should try it melted in a shot glass," Dean said smiling.

"Shots of chocolate? What else were you two up to when I was gone?"

"You know the usual, dancing girls and candy canes."

"Should've went with those for my give. You know how much I love dancing girls," John teased.

"Yeah, I'm staying clear of boxes of chocolate."

"Go get some sleep kiddo. And Dean; Here's a twenty, you go buy us whatever you want for Christmas just don't make a mess with the tools of the trade, okay?"

"Ok Dad, and thanks this is great," Dean groaned rubbing his sore butt, at least it was over and next year, he'd ask for money for the Christmas fund by Thanksgiving avoiding all of this!


End file.
